Scorpion Corp's Mission Files
          Escape from Bangkok (#7)



          Skating around the top level of the warehouse and finding only machine shop tools, parts, and small crates of weapons and munitions, Skitchy decides to investigate the huge tarp covering what appears to be more equipment on the ground level.
          "Let's see what else we got here." He says as he springs down to the first floor. His pneumatic shafts in his cyberthighs easily absorb the impact. He then quickly skates to the tarp and begins to pull.
          "Skitch, let's just get those Panzer engines like ordered and get on our way." Sam says--his mind wandering--thinking about the supple form of Harley on the sub alone. 'Can't wait to get some rays on a Thai beach next to her. The places we'll get sunburn...' he imagines.
          At just this moment a short, stout dwarve wearing full body armor steps from underneath the tarped mountain of equipment. Several different types of grenades are hanging on a tool belt around his waist. Skitchy then looks over and finds himself looking down the largest diameter of a pistol barrel he has ever seen--even accounting for the fact that it is pointed at him.
          "CHUMMER, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT A FRAG GRENADE SET TO EXPLODE ON IMPACT WILL DO TO YOUR BREAD BASKET?" The dwarf yells as he points his Armtech Mini-6 MGL (multi grenade launcher pistol) at Skitchy's midsection. On the balcony of the second floor, Sam immediately recollects his thoughts and pulls up his large crossbow slung over his shoulder.
          "I wouldn't try that if I were you!" the dwarf yells as something great stirs under the tarp. It's long, shifting form points up at the imposing figure of Sam.
          Whoa, mellow dude! Slot a BTL and relax." Skitchy says, both hands raised in the air. He then slowly and nonthreatingly tugs on the tarp and pulls it down, revealing a huge armored turret, with an immense howitzer cannon pointed up at his muscle-bound friend. Several ceiling mounted sentry machine gun weapons then spring to life and point at him. Skitchy's eyes go wide.
          The dwarf then smiles and raises his right cybered arm towards his oil smeared, bearded face. A small flame then erupts from the index finger and ignites an unlit cigar in his mouth. In addition, a long cable can be seen trailing from a datajack in the tip of the second cyber finger to the inside of the heavily armored turret.
          "Do you feel lucky?" he says with gritted teeth.
          Sunset Sam then begins to smile. Skitchy stares at him incredulously.
          "You would be TnT. Scorpion Corps chief armorer and demolition's expert." Sam states as he lowers his weapon. "We are your ticket outta here chummer..." he says with a smile as he holds up his stylized Scorpion dagger given only to members of the team.
          Skitchy then exhales a loud sigh of relief...

--K.F.K.--


          The Roar of the Harley reverberates throughout the Denver city streets as it speeds on its way to nowhere in particular. The rider is tall and wearing a black worn leather jacket and torn faded blue jeans. His black leather boots are scuffed and worn but appear to be in good shape for stomping. The rider's long, wavy, jet-black hair streams behind him freely as if it were a banner of a Ronin soldier. Looking at his face the tanned, high cheek boned visage is covered by dark wrap-around shades that add a sense of mystery to the lone figure.
          The rider stops at a club call Wyld Stones. He does a slow and easy 360 glance around, studying the surroundings for possible escapes and dangers. Once he feels secure he grasps his long hair and releases it, causing the wind swept waves to jump back in place and his elven ears to be temporarily exposed. Then with a fluid grace he sweeps his left leg from around the hog and strides casually into the club's doors. Inside his senses are assailed by a multitude of experiences. The music is loud and crude, the smell musty and humus, the lighting dim and hazy.
          He takes of his shades and places them in his jacket's inner pocket and glances at the scenery. His walnut brown eyes take in everything and seem to again be judging his area. The club is relatively small, with a small fully stocked bar and about 10 tables and booths. It seems like a down time for the clientele as there are only a pair of drunken dwarves sitting at one table. The bartender seems to be busy wiping down shot glasses and the waitress, if you can call an Orc woman that is packing heat a waitress, sits snoozing near the bar. The tall elf walks towards the back of the club and into a booth that offers him a view of the front door and all occupants within the bar. He takes out a small hand-sized device from his jacket pocket and holds it out over the table and chairs around him; when the LCD readout stays amber he puts it away and pulls out a small vidphone. Seeing the waitress ambling over he puts the phone down on the table and waits for her to approach.
          "So handsome what youz want.", she says in a grunting baritone. She appears to be half asleep but a look in her eye tells you that she is fronting. Probably trying to get some unexpecting wanna-be to make a play and in the process get axed.
          With a point to a neon sign, the lone figure gives his order.
          "I see. Strong silent type, neh. Soka by me, youz got your biz and I got mine. That'll be two fify. Wanna tab or will thiz be a only?"
          With a simple nod of his head the Orc leaves to prepare the drink. You can see a look of disappointment in her crusted face, this was not someone to be taken down. She sighs audibly and returns to deposit the requested drink. After that she goes back to her semi-comatose state.
          Taking a large drink of the brew the lone figure quenches his thirst. Then placing the drink on the table before him he again picks up the phone and dials a memorized number. Looking at the small vid camera he waits patiently as the number is dialed and transmitted. A small logo of a red Scorpion on a black background appears and a menu of options is displayed. Following the procedure his companion in a distant state gave him he punches the code for leaving messages. Then he awaits the confirmation and begins talking in a rich voice that has a hint of Aztlanian accent.
          "Yo' Shelob, we have a mutual friend back in the CAS by the name of Gunslinger, who has provided me with this way of accessing your services. Since I'm new in town, and in need of some capital, our mutual friend told me to look you up. He said you may be just the sort of people that would be interested in my services. At the present time I'm located at a dive called the Wyld Stones and expect to be here for approximately one hour. You may contact me here if you are in need of my services. Names are relative in this line of work but I am known by the name Raven. I hope we can be of benefit to each other and I await your call."
          With the completion of his message he puts the phone away and orders another drink by simple eye and hand motion. He then leans back, takes in the tunes that surround his body, and waits.
------


          The soothing tunes of Vid Freak, bounce around the small bar. The melodic tempo set by the music adds to the relaxed feeling of the club. Raven, after drinking his second drink, closes his eyes and tries to feel the rhythm of the music as it flows in and around his body--there aren't many times in the modern world when a body can get the chance to enjoy peacefulness.
          Opening his eyes he finds himself staring directly into the most piercing gray eyes that he has ever seen.
          The full, red lips speak softly yet with a tint of authority, "Dozing off like that can get a chummer geeked. Are you sure you are ready for this kind of work?"
          Still marveling at the natural beauty of the woman before him, Raven, in a calm and collected voice says,
          "Chica, perdona me," He quickly, but noticeably holsters the Ares Predator which was pointed at Shelob under the table. "I must say Gunslinger's words on your beauty pale in comparison to the real vision that you are. I am humbled by your presence--please have a seat." Raven then stands for a moment while the athletic form of the Scorpion Corp's captain seats herself.
          "Watch yourself handsome, this spider's got a web that is hard to navigate and deadly to those that become enthralled," replies Shelob.
          "I'm an adventurous man, senorita, and I would love to explore your silvery strands." says Raven in a soft voice.
          Shelob raises an eyebrow at this comment and ever so slightly puckers her lips with a slight smile. For just a moment, her gray eyes turn to a lusty green as she looks the dark haired man up and down. After a pause her eyes become the piercing gray again, and Shelob speaks.
          "So you got biz with me or what?"
          "As I said in the message a mutual friend said I should hook up with your organization. I believe it would be of benefit to both our sides."
          "Depends on how you look at things Azzie. From my point of view all I see is a sweet talking chummer who says he's got an edge. You may look good but that says squat about what your value to us is." says Shelob.
          "Tienes razon, in what you say. So I figured I'd show you something that might change your mind. I heard on the vid that a priceless statue was being shown at the city Museum, this would bring in some serious creds on the streets. I also have overheard on the street that your new fledgling corporation has drawn the attention of one the older security companies. Seems that they don't like the way Scorpion Corporation has muscled in on the tierra. What say you, if I kill two trogs with one cap, and "acquire" the statue and discredit your competition at the same time?" says Raven in a low voice. He orders two drinks using his wordless signals and awaits a reply.
          The Orc waitress ambles over and places the drinks in front of the two runners and seems to slosh the drink before Shelob on purpose. When she gets no response from the women she sighs heavily and wanders back to her previous position, mumbling something about it being a slow day.
          "That's a heavy load for one man", sneers Shelob as she downs her drink in one gulp, "I'd say if you could pull this off we would consider your application. When would you be doing this run? Time is short for my organization and we don't have time to wait for a recon and extraction."
          "Check the vids tomorrow night, you'll get the info you want from them. I'm sure you'll be satisfied with the results. Now for the particulars, my sources tell me the object in question is worth 20k on the open market and I'm sure with your organizations connections you guys can get double that amount. All I'm asking for is 10k for the statue. I'll throw in the other half of the test for free. Call it a present for my future compadres de armas."
          With a snicker, that could melt the ice caps, Shelob says, "You've got nerve, calling me to this drek hole to join up. Then you expect to be paid."
          "I'm sure in your line of work you do nothing with out an incentive. If its to prime time for your group. I'll just have to see if the Alamo corp is looking for some action. I already got the plan.." replied Raven.
          "Cancel that thought, I'm just scanning your intentions. If you had not asked for anything, I would have thought you a wannabe trying to get into the game. I'll give you 5k for the art and a handshake for the extra." said Shelob, enjoying the act of bartering. She thinks maybe one day of becoming a Mr. Johnson if the actions gets to thick.
          "I'll take 6.5k and a chance to kiss your skilled hands with my seasoned lips." replies Raven with an extra sly voice.
          "Scanned and slotted", answers Shelob "Cancel that last part. My web has many layers and you have only begun the long journey. Better hope you have a net cuz when you fall you fall." She gets up and nods her good bye and prepares to leave.
          Standing up Raven smiles and whispers as Shelob exits, "Mama, no se si estoy sano pero esta senorita paro mi corazon. I just hope I can survive to enjoy the rewards."
------


          The still form of the guard lay in the mildew filled alleyway. His pants were down to his knees and his excitement was still evident even though he was unconscious. Raven quickly pulled the body behind a trash dumpster and covered him with a cardboard box. He smiled as he thought about the big headache the guard would have when he woke up.
          "Yo chummer, you could have waited at least till the poor sap had some action before you axed him.", the whiny voice of a local joygirl said as she fixed, what she called, her clothing into place.
          "You got your creds and that all that counts right?" said Raven looking deep into her eyes, "Now you take a nice long vacation and forget what you scanned here. I can be a vary generous man to my friends, but remember this I can also be very dangerous to those who cross me."
          "Yo, that's wiz boss. I aint got no rewind button on these lips." says the girl in a shaky voice as she speeds off into the darkness.


          Raven reaches into the dumpster and takes out a plastic bag that contains various articles of clothing that match the prone guards. He swiftly puts on the clothes and carefully places the guards badge and holstered pistol. He then produces a small palm sized machine and uses it to scan both hands and eyes of the victim. Raven then takes out a pair of thin, nude colored gloves and scans the machine over his own hands, he then scans his eyes. If everything goes as planned he should be able to bypass any casual security that Alamo may have set up. It was a good thing that he had found out that Alamo was cutting corners on this sec job, they must have thought the statue was not wanted so they had trimmed their security measures in order to make more profit. Raven gave his disguise a quick lookover and then once satisfied he uses the guards pass key to unlock the side door to the Museum. The time was 11:30 am and the grand opening party had died down at about 11:00. He had paid a small time decker a little fee in order to delay the cleaning crew until 12:00 midnight. This gave him approximately 30 min in order to get in find the artifact and get out. He noisily went about his duty of walking the museum, coughing occasionally and sneezing, when he turned a corner and saw another guard he bent over in a coughing fit.
          "Drek Harry, you should have stayed home on this job.", said the other guard as he noticed his bent over partner. "Stay away from me pal. That's all I need is to get some disease from your fragging ass. I told ya not to be playing around with those slum girls. Who knows what the frag they been into."
          In a raspy, cough ridden voice, Raven says, "Ya but you no me. Cant turn down a good piece of ass."
          "Well you stay on your side of the rounds, I don't want to be catching any of that drek." says the guard, "Drek the cleaning crew is late, probably eating some tacos, those grease balls. I tell ya one thing I hate them Azzie jungle bunnies. Well I'm off take care."


          Raven nods good-bye as the guard turns around, he contemplates taking repercussions against the racist remarks but remembers he's here for a purpose and continues on his rounds. Finally in the center of the Museum he sees the dais where the porcelain statue is boldly held. He stares blankly at the area and to an outsider he would appear to be totally enthralled with the subject. In reality his cyber enhanced eyes were rapidly scanning the surrounding area and detecting the various security devices that were in place. He grins to himself as he hold the security company in contempt. These guys deserve to get their chains yanked he thinks to himself as he prepares himself for the activities at hand. He checks his watch and sees that the cleaning crew should be checking in within the next 5 min. Reaching for his communicator he loudly coughs into the com and speaks in a throaty, phlegm filled voice, "Um guys I'm going to check on the......vids in the statue room give me a feedback notification in 5."


          "Damn Harry! You nearly spilt my java with the drek cough! Stay off the com or I'll nail your ass to the wall. Fragger! What the hell do you want to check the cameras for anyway. I can see you vid head through right now, their working fine." Screams a voice from the com unit. "Drek the cleaning crews coming in. Unit 2 and 3 get your asses to the entrance ASAP. I want to know what the hell took those fraggers so long. I'll be watching your backs and if you want to give some hell I'll erase the tape after so they cant complain." The unknown voice gives off a throaty laugh then goes on to say, "The only good Azzie is one that knows his place in life."


          Raven gritting his teeth rapidly goes into action avoiding the various electronic trip wires he leaps and jumps to the four different video cameras and places a small electronic scrambler that causes them to recycle the previous 5 min. before he entered the room. Once he was finished with the cameras he quickly jogged to the pedestal and placed another small device on the pedestal near the statue. Once the LCD terminal on the device turn amber he grabbed the statue and placed into a sack that he had hidden in his coat pocket. The device left behind would trick the weighing security device into thinking the object was still on the pedestal. He was leaving the room when he almost forgot something. Using his gloved hands he began to touch various articles around the room and the archway. In one of the walls he used his finger prints to form the words "Brownsville Renegades", he smiles to himself as he thinks back to the wild adventures he had in Houston with his friend Gunslinger. "That should baffle the Denver P.D.. if they even bother to search for prints."


          With that said he swiftly walks to the exit and out the door. As he gets out of his disguise he overhears on the communicator.
          "Boy we fixed them up good boys. Did you see that chums? They was practically whizzing in their pants when we gave em the buz." said a nasal voice, "Nothing better than a good ass kicking eh boys."
          "Yeah I saw it all on tape you guys were great. I wish I didn't have to stay up here and monitor this drek hole. But... that's what they pay me the big bucks for boys. You do know the key to any mission is a good ops man and I'm the best in the biz." says a confident voice which Raven remembers from his previous conversation.


          Raven puts all the item in his plastic bag and along with the statue he walks out of the alley way, whistling a popular Latin song. He stops by the cleaning crews van and smiles. "Don't worry amigos. We will get the last laugh when these gringos chingados have to answer for their missing artifact." With a smooth motion he flips a 250 cred stick into the front seat and continues walking along. He smiles to himself as he see "Mr. greatest ops man" tells his boss about the artifact being their all night long. Walking 3 blocks he sees his Harley and puts on his shades and drives off thinking of where he's going to grab a bite to eat.

--E.M.--


          'Time to see if the my web has captured any more flies." Drider says as he jacks into cyberspace. Instantly he metamorphoses into the form of the monster. He extends his eight legs and glances around the dark forest that is his home. The eight legs rest on silvery strands that giving him information about his system. "No new prey in my web? This chummer is more elusive than I had suspected." He glances around his net of entrapment. "Time to go search him out. But I will need a different form so as not be recognized." Drider then jacks out.
          Getting up in his computer strewn room, Drider searches for an old chip of his. Going to a fireproof safe he enters the combination and applies his finger to the print sensor and in a moment it is open. He grabs a MPCP chip from inside. He walks to his large mainframe, and searching around the room for other components begins rigging a new piece of hardware for his comp.
------


          "Shelob, we have some new information I think you need to know about." Harley says over a monitor patched in via satellite.
          "All right, rigger-mama let's see what ya got." Shelob says as she leans back in her chair. In a moment, the screen switches over to a view inside the warehouse. The large form of Sunset Sam is staring into the screen.
          "Yeah captain...we found another one." He then steps aside to reveal the stocky dwarve standing in full body armor and smoking a cigar.
          "Hoi boss...I made it out." he says with a grim, pained smile.
          Shelob instantly grabs the screen as if to hug it. "You made it? You made it!" Shelob yells in happiness, barely holding back a few tears of joy. "How? Reports Drider intercepted said all the team was eliminated." she looks deeply into the screen. "We only made it out by taking control of a MPUV (Multi Purpose Utility Vehicle = Hummer/Jeep) and riding out. Got a few clicks away before they caught on. But once they had a lock on us we had to bail out into the jungle before the GMC was destroyed by a ATGM (Anti Tank Guided Weapon) launched from a combat helo. How did you make it, and more importantly, were there any others?" She asks hopefully.
          "Sorry cap'n, just me. But boss...everyone that could fight went down with a gun in their hand," TnT bites his teeth down hard on his cigar. "That day was a nightmare..."
          He looks to her, trying to read the emotions in her face, and it is all too clear. Tears are now visible streaming down Shelob's face. She looks down, and drags an arm across her eyes. Then a strange change seems to flow over her body. Her body becomes more tightened and rigid. When she looks up, her face is cold, and her eyes are all black.
          "Go on." she says grimly.
          "Unfortunately some of us were stunned or hit so bad we couldn't fight." he pauses. "First we're getting on the Scorp Corp's Titan cargo plane to go to Denver, then next all hell breaks loose. The plane gets a wing blown off while taxiing the runway, and then as you know we all piled out the back, guns blazing. Maverick, that crazy old SOB keeps the plane going till the last moment and plows it right into a armor division heading towards us. He took out a lot of those fraggers in his last moments, God rest his soul."
          "Meanwhile, my group starts taking hits. We got dumped out on the tarmac between two lead vehicles. Most of the men bought it right there. This Striker light tank is shredding us with a Victory autocannon, but Maverick, right before he goes up in a huge explosion, fires one from the side mounted Howitzer IV and blows it to drek. Then he was gone as well." TnT then seemingly looks to the sky. "Taking care of us to the end--thanks chummer."
          For but a moment, Shelob remembers the old rigger. That crazy comrade in arms who started out flying fighter deltas back in the old days. She had given the lifer a job a year after he was forcibly retired from the forces. 'Said he just couldn't stay away from flying.' But why sign up with a dangerous group like the SC instead of a cushy suborbital airline corp? Shelob knew the real reason, he just couldn't stay away from the combat. He was an adrenalin junkie. She also knew, deep within herself, that he was more like her than she cared to admit. She loved the rush of combat. It made her feel like a predator. It was only after the battle that she had to suffer the pain that went with the losses. Shelob then looks back into the screen.
          "Priest sprays down a gang of soldiers piling out of a big army truck on our left flank, and I let loose an Arbelast II (Medium Anti Armor Weapon = Basooka) at a MPUV bearing down on us from the front. It's top mounted minigun was tearing our unit to pieces. That is, until my blast took the Hummer out and turned it on it's side." he smiles at the thought, but then his face goes blank. "I guess one of the fraggers from the truck got me though, 'cause right after I went down. As near as I can tell, it was a concussion grenade or something. Drek, what I wouldn't have given to stay up and help my chummers." he says as he hangs his head low.
          "Well I woke up to Priest's blood spattered face shooting something in my arm. It felt like fire and I could feel my heart beat harder and faster--it felt like it was going to burst under the pressure--but I started to get a little feeling back in my body. Priest had pulled me to cover by the MPUV and waxed the guy who got me. Let me tell ya, he was the most giving medic I ever met in any combat situation. Pulled my drek right outta the fire. I was bleedin out my ears and everywhere else, but Priest had done his best with me. Yet by this time the battle was mostly over." TnT stops to puff his cigar, "I could still hear sporadic gunfire and yells all around, but it was really over."
          "I gathered all my energy and sat up, but things were bad for Priest. He knew it too. I could see it in his face. He had stim patches all over and had two of those hypodermic things in each arm, and I could tell that was the only thing keeping him standing. Yet, with every beat of his heart, more of his life slipped away from the numerous bullet wounds riddling his dermal plated body." he stops then to look at the burning red ember of his cigar, only the very end of it remained. He then continues, "Shelob, I knew he was going down, he had blood all over him. But like I said, he knew it as well."
          "We could hear the soldiers approaching then by this time. He looked at me and then pointed to the truck, and I knew what he intended to do. I screamed 'No!' and he looked back and pointed to the truck again, and then he did the strangest thing. He smiled. He smiled and then injected something into his neck and then stood up. He grabbed the minigun on the roof of the MPUV and ripped it clear off it's mounting! Veins were bulging on his neck and his face was red, but he broke the bolts holding it in place and tore it clear! And he then let the lead fly."
          "Capt., I didn't think anyone could stand that many hits. But he kept absorbing 'em. And the whole while, he had that grin... He gave me time to crawl to the underside of the truck and strap my worn body to the undercarriage. And then mercifully, I passed out. He gave what he had left of his life so I could escape." The dwarve looks down to his cigar only to see that it's light has gone out, all of the tobacco having burned away.
          "I awoke, I have no idea how much later, driving down a dirt road somewhere through the jungle. When the truck slowed down sufficiently on a turn I cut myself free and rolled into a rice field and hid until the truck was gone. Some locals not caring much for politics took care of me while my body healed. I gave em all my nuyen for the trouble. Then I eventually meandered back here, and have been living on rations and hatred of those government bastards for the last few months."


          Shelob looks down, and grinds her teeth. The muscles in her cheeks rippling under her smooth snow white skin. She then feels a cold breeze blow into the room. For a moment she believes she feels a presence in the office with her. Out of the corner of her eye she sees a shadow of a spider crawling towards her. Closing her eyes and feeling suddenly comforted she says,
          "It's good to have you safe and sound TnT. Those insect fraggers hurt me deeply. NO ONE! messes with my brood. Those bugs will get what's coming to them. Scorpion Corps is coming back to Bangkok to settle the score, and this one is personal!"
------


          "There, that should do it." Drider says as he finishes connecting his jury-rigged hardware to his deck. He then sits down in a comfortable chair nearby and jacks in.
          Instantly he feels the great form of the monster. He extends his legs wide, and again feels nothing new in his web. "Let's see if my labor has paid off." He then waves his hand in a broad motion over his body and a great violet light encapsulates his body. The beast screams in pain towards heaven and then collapses to the ground. Its legs begin to retract, and the great abdomen begins to shrink in a horrible metamorphosis. In moments it is done. In its place lies the body of a dark elf in full chainmail. He lifts his head and looks around.
          "Drek, I'll have to fine tune that transformation. It's too disorienting." He then stands up and stretches his arms and takes in a deep breath. He walks over to his shield, and mounting it in his left arm feels its weight. He jumps from side to side, and then draws his sword from its sheath mounted on his back. The black blade glows as if exuding an inky mist. "But this form does still seem to have the speed and dexterousness that I programmed into it many years ago." It is also nonthreatening enough to allow him to pass into the PoserBBS without drawing too much attention.
          He then reaches into his chainmail near the neck and withdraws a small silk handkerchief. He lays it flat on the ground and then puts his hand into it. The hand disappears from view as he reaches into its extradimensional space. The dark elf then waves his other hand over the object. He smiles then, pleased with the results of a quick incantation. "Good, I still have good integrity with this prog." He then grabs his chin, "Let's see, I need to make sure that the BBS doesn't detect any extra progs besides my persona and a few minor attack and defense programs, otherwise I'll set off some of the Trace ICE. . . That would be bad drek if traced to the Scorpion Securities Mainframe."
          He then looks over his persona. A sword, sheath, shield, and his armor drape his drow form. He draws forth an elven cloak from some web covering his lair. This prog, all that is left of the Wraith's original invisibility programming, coded right at the beginning of the matrix. Of course Drider had continually updated the cloak of the Wraith to keep up with the state of the art in defense ICE, but this program--the original--had been considered out of date for years now, and would hardly be considered a threat to any sysop nowadays. It no longer could function as an invisibility cloak, but yet still had some useful functions left woven into its data threads.
          The dark elf then taps his hand on a strand of the web. He repeats the tap three times, and then feels the return of a small arachnid walking the web towards him. He sees the small creature amble towards him and he commands it to enter the extradimensional space in the handkerchief.
          He then draws forth his sword, and twists the blade forth from the hilt. He attaches the dark blade to a nearby sticky filament and then reapplies the hilt to the sheath on his back. "There, now the BBS scanners wont find an extra unexpected data on my persona. It will believe the sword to be a full attack program and will count the extra dimensional space as part of that sword" He then smiles as the initial portions of his plan begin to be spun.
          He looks around his web for the best route out of the dark forest and then suddenly sees the web begin to vibrate. Next he feels the ground rumble. He lifts his shield in a defensive position subconsciously and instinctually climbs to the center of the web.
          The ground then erupts in an explosion of soil and a huge shrew clambers forth. It looks around with squinty eyes and then spies the dark elf. It shrieks and dives at the lithe form. The dark elf leaps quickly to the side and gracefully completes his flight in an expertly executed roll.
          "Woah chummer, relax! It's Drider, stop!" the dark elf exclaims.
          The large shrew stops, then sits up on its honches and stares, again squinting at the elven form. "So it is! I would recognize that fanged mug anywhere. I thought the forest was under attack. But what happened to the eight legs?" It asks quizzically.
          "I had use for a less dangerous form, and this fit me well." The dark elf says, setting down his glowing shield. "You're not on duty patrolling the forest, so what're you doing here?"
          "Your sister, the dark lady of late, told me to inform you that the IDs came in from the passport agency today. She wants you to do a follow up run and renew all our SINs, soyka?"
          "Gotcha chummer, but this form can't hang." He then reverses the direction of his arms and gives a minor incantation and again he screams in pain as the violet glow surrounds him. The veins in his wraith-like hands begin to turn a blackened silver. The arteries bulge outward and then his hands begin to bloat. The color in the blood vessels then spreads throughout his entire body. The chainmail dissolves away and only the dark silvery black body remains. Again he screams and each of his legs split into four spindly arachnoidal legs. They then lengthen and as if having a life of their own stand up and carry the near lifeless torso to a comfortable position in the center of the web.
          "Whatever. . . Too freaky for me Drider, although the show is quite impressive." the shrew says as he fumbles around his fur and eventually finds some roots he was searching for. "Gotta get back to sorting through this data ya got us from Bangkok. Smells like you might have some good tubers harvested, my friend. See ya." The shrew then he searches around the forest floor for a clear spot to dig. He finds a clear spot and then dives into the earth, tearing at it with his claws and soon he is gone into the data stream.


          The great spiderform then snarls a fanged grin, knowing that there was no better datacode breaker in the biz than his chummer Shrew. If he smelled something good, then things were wiz. Drider then quickly demodulated the transformation program allowing him to switch back and forth between the two MPCP chips so that the transformation would be smoother and faster. He now had two obviously different tuxedos that he could use while online.
          The beast then screams in rage. It then looks down one corridor of the forest and grabs a silvery line and bounds off and into cyberspace.

--K.F.K.--